


Mia and Branson Offer Advice

by Ophiel



Series: The Dalish Curse [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, Demons, F/M, In-Laws, Kissing, Mages and Templars, Magic, Magical Realism, Marriage, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4944925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophiel/pseuds/Ophiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn begins to realize that, behind closed doors, "I'm the Inquisitor, do as I say" does not work when you're married. They also discover that there may be another growing curse in the Forest that stems from darkspawn and abominations. What better than a date storming a keep? It's turning out to be quite the romantic holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mia and Branson Offer Advice

The Dalish girl was brought into the house and laid out before the hearth on on a blanket. Branson had taken charge, stitching Cullen's injury closed. Mia was boiling hot water in the kitchen as the house came to resemble an infirmary.

 

Branson cut the last of the catgut sutures, Cullen wincing in pain. "Don't open it up again, I'm not a seamstress," Branson warned.

 

"Let me," Evelyn said as she walked over to Cullen. Rosalie was giving her her a wide berth, the young woman putting Aidan to bed upstairs. Evelyn got the impression that magic made her nervous. If it was affecting Mia and Branson in the same way, they were not showing it. She sat down beside Cullen and held her hand over his side as Branson moved to see to the slumbering Dalish.

 

"You brought your weapons," Evelyn murmured to him.

 

"So did you. You made a promise you wouldn't."

 

"You made the same promise." Their eyes met, mutual blame and guilt in their gaze. "Maker, we're such children."

 

"I'm glad I - I mean, we brought our weapons.”

 

“Me too,” Evelyn sighed. “It’s hard to leave it all behind, isn’t it?”

 

Cullen nodded wordlessly and put his arm around her, kissing her forehead. “Careful, Commander, I might get excited and open your stitching,” she smiled.

 

“I feared you wouldn’t be able to-” He paused. “It was foolish. I’m glad to see that you’ve still got it in you.”

 

“By that you mean you’re glad I can still cast,” she looked at him, her eyes serious. “So am I, honestly. I thought it was all gone.” She moved her hand away from him, the stitching still in him but the wound was not as raw or vulnerable. “Good. That’s the best I can do. I’m no healer.”

 

Cullen grunted and started to pull his tunic on. Evelyn moved to Branson. “How is she?” she asked.

 

“Stable,” Branson replied. “It will take a while for her to wake up. Her wounds are pretty deep.” He frowned at the sight of the girl’s hand and moved to try to pry her fingers open. Her hand was clasped tight. “What is that…’

 

“Leave it,” Evelyn said. “We’ll see how she is when she awakes.”

 

Branson looked up at her, his glasses glinting. “I wish you would let me look at your wounds. Your arms were shredded.”

 

“I’ve closed the wounds, Branson,” Evelyn said gently. “It’s good enough.” Branson’s look told her clearly that he disagreed. Evelyn sighed. “Perhaps afterwards,” she murmured.

 

Branson’s eyes were cold. “Or, perhaps now,” Evelyn gave in. She sat down and rolled up her sleeves. The cuts were indeed healing quickly, leaving long red welts in her arms as her skin sealed. Branson frowned, holding her wrists as he turned her forearms to check her wounds. He chuckled to himself. “Your magical healing leaves a lot to be desired,” he said.

 

“Thank you,” Evelyn replied stiffly. “I’m no healer. I have neither the quiet of mind nor the practice.”

 

Cullen came down the stairs, donned in his breastplate, pauldrons, bracers and greaves, though he had not worn his fur shawl. “Hard to leave it all behind, Commander?” Evelyn asked as she stood up.

 

“Rickard isn’t back yet,” Cullen said, picking up his sword and shield by the door.

 

“I’m coming with you,” Evelyn said. Their eyes met, their gaze crackling with words unspoken. Evelyn knew what he was thinking and spoke first, “You’ll be able to protect me better when I’m next to you, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Sophistry,” Cullen snorted as he belted on his sword.

 

“I’m still coming with you.”

 

“No.”

 

“Stop treating me like I’m an invalid!”

 

“You don’t have to throw yourself into danger to prove it!”

 

“I’m not trying to prove anything!”

 

“Then just stay here! This isn’t Corypheus, you don’t have to be the one to fight!”

 

“They’re my family too now, Cullen!” Evelyn was breathing hard, gesturing as she spoke. “I want to protect them just as much as you!” Branson watched from the sidelines silently as the atmosphere thickened, Cullen’s cheeks reddening as they did when he was angry.

 

“Sweet Maker, give me strength,” he ran his hands over his face in frustration. He took a deep  breath. “Get your robes on.”

 

Evelyn blinked. “How did you know-”

 

“Oh, Evelyn!” Cullen shouted in exasperation “It’s in your pack! I knew about it at Redcliffe when we spent the night.”

 

Evelyn said nothing. She turned to the stairs, taking the flight two steps at a time. Cullen thought she couldn’t fight any more. He thought she needed to be protected. He had looked into her pack! She pulled on her armoured coat over her tunic and breeches, then strapped on her greaves and bracers. She would leave her staff behind. She couldn’t move well with it now that she only had one arm. At least she could still cast some spells that did not require shaping the veil with her hands. She’d be damned if she became a liability forced to stay behind!

 

She swallowed her sweltering frustration. She had never argued with Cullen before. In the past, their purposes had always been aligned. She always led from the front, throwing herself into the fray. It was why she was a Knight Enchanter. And now, now that she had lost her arm, suddenly he wanted her to stay back? The thought infuriated her.

 

She descended the stairs, seeing Cullen waiting by the door. Mia came up to Evelyn, her eyes wet as she hugged her sister-in-law. “Behave out there,” Mia said. “Thank you, thank you for trying to look for Rickard.”

 

Evelyn nodded, following Cullen outside. Dog stood up expectantly and padded alongside Cullen. “I suppose you want to come too,” Cullen said evenly to the Dog. Dog barked happily in response. Cullen sighed as he glanced at Evelyn. “Where’s your staff?”

 

“I can’t hold it anymore,” Evelyn admitted. “I have to find new ways to fight.” Cullen said nothing to this.

 

Dog sniffed at the gate, its nose close to the ground. “Find Rickard,” Cullen said. Dog’s ears pricked and he loped off into the alleys of vines, Cullen and Evelyn running to keep pace. It was fully dark now, the moon casting inky pools of black shadows among the vines. They ran for five minutes after the dog until they saw the vines tattered ahead, the alley opening to a scene of carnage. There were more of the loping gray creatures who attacked them, three of the beasts lay dead among the scattered vines. Rickard and two farm hands were laying face down in the earth. Evelyn ran forward, feeling for Rickard’s pulse. She turned him over, his chest a crisscross of scars. She calmed her mind, her hands glowing as he worked to heal him.

 

“Daggers,” Cullen said, standing over the corpses of the creatures. “Did any of them use daggers?”

 

“Cullen he’s badly injured,” Evelyn breathed urgently. “Turn the other two over, I’ll do what I can. We need to get them to Branson quickly.”

 

Evelyn closed their wounds, but she could only do so much. The flesh was still raw and slightly bloody, but they were no longer gaping. Their leather farm-wear has borne most of the force of the beast’s slashes.

 

In the end, Cullen carried Rickard while Evelyn levitated the farm hands on discs of green fade fire.

 

Mia’s eyes were red but her expression steely as they brought the injured men into the living room. Branson was busier than ever, stitching wounds as Mia made salves and poultices under his crisp instructions. Cullen kept watch by the door, Dog sitting on the porch with him.

 

Evelyn felt quite useless. She could prepare no herbs with one hand and couldn’t heal any more than she already did. She walked upstairs instead, to check on Rosalie and Aidan.

 

Evelyn opened the door to Mia’s room after a quiet knock. “Rosalie?” she called. She heard a gasp from the darkness inside. “Are you alright?”

 

“Y-yes,” Rosalie said. “Sorry, you startled me.”

 

“I’m just checking if you’re alright,” Evelyn said, opened the door wider.

 

“No!” Rosalie squeaked. “I mean, yes, I’m fine, you don’t have to come in!”

 

Evelyn’s heart sank. Rosalie was afraid of her. She lowered her eyes. “Oh,” she murmured. “Good night then.” Evelyn shut the door behind her.

 

“I wouldn’t worry about her,” Cullen said, coming up behind her. Evelyn glanced up at him, defeated. It was going so well. She wasn’t supposed to use any magic. She hadn’t even thought she could. Now she had restored some of her old self at the cost of, what? Rosalie squeaking like she was a monster.

 

Evelyn mutely nodded.

 

“As your military advisor, I advise that you get some rest,” he said. “Things will calm down in the morning.”

 

Evelyn nodded once more, heading to their bedroom. She slunk into bed, falling asleep to escape the thought of Rosalie’s fear, only to be swept up in nightmares of her own.

 

+++

 

The following morning dawned clear. Evelyn blinked in the sunlight and sat up, her muscles aching and her body stiff. She washed in the cold water of the wash basin and went downstairs to face… whatever was there for her. To her surprise, she saw that breakfast was served. It was leftovers from the dinner before, served with warm gruel and bread. Evelyn sat down at the table. “Good morning, Mia,” she said.

 

“Good morning,” Mia replied from the kitchen where she was washing blood-stained cloths. She looked tired. “Did you sleep well?”

 

Evelyn shook her head as she helped herself to a cup of tea. “Did you?”

 

“I don’t think any of us did, dear,” Mia sighed. “Branson has been up all night with the patients, and Cullen hasn’t taken his armour off.”

 

“Where is he?” Evelyn asked.

 

“Checking the walls with Dog,” said Mia. She wiped her hands and went to sit down opposite Evelyn. “Thank you,” Mia said warmly. “For healing Rickard, I mean. You insisted on going out.”

 

Evelyn was silent, staring down into her cup of tea.

 

Mia started to set breakfast for her, filling a plate with bread and meats and hot cooked eggs. “Was that your first fight?” she asked matter-of-factly.

 

Evelyn nodded. “First time we’ve ever shouted at each other like that, as odd as it sounds.”

 

“Well, get used to it.”

 

“What?”

 

“Of course. Did you think you weren’t going to ever yell at each other again? Don’t be silly. There will be lots more yelling. He’s not going to listen to you like he does as Commander, and you can’t command him as Inquisitor, not behind closed doors. You’re going to have to learn to trust and work together as a married couple. That probably would take more yelling than last night.”

 

“That’s not comforting,’ Evelyn chuckled despite herself.

 

“It’s the truth.” Mia set the plate in front of Evelyn . “We’re happy you’re here, Eve. So’s he. You just have to work at being married. Talk to him.”

 

Evelyn began to eat, smiling gratefully as she picked up her eating knife. “How’s Rosalie?” she asked.

 

“Asleep,” Mia said, nonethewiser.

 

“Right.” Evelyn forced a smile. So it was only Rosalie who was… afraid. Perhaps she could give the woman a wide berth, stay out of her way.

 

She ate her breakfast and headed to the living room to check on the injured. As expected, Branson was seated by the sleeping Dalish girl and the farm hand, quietly rolling bandages next to his medical satchel. “Where’s Rickard?” Evelyn asked.

 

“He’s up and about,” said Branson. “Corbin is awake too. They were badly hurt, but they’ll live. Rickard is made of iron. Thank goodness you managed to heal them when you did.”

 

“Though my healing magic left much to be desired,” Evelyn chuckled as she sat down to help him roll bandages.

 

“Cullen would write to us about masters healers in the Circle,” Branson said quietly. “He used to, that is. Until the Blight.” Evelyn rolled strip of bandages silently. “You do know what happened to him there, do you not?”

 

Evelyn sighed inwardly. She nodded. For all that he had grown closer to his family, he never admitted to sharing any news about what happened to him at Ferelden’s Circle. Apparently, the family had found out on their own.

 

Branson took a breath as he looked down at the bandage he was rolling. “When I became a physician, I made special study of lyrium addiction. I believed that one day I would have to tend to my brother who would descend into madness because of it. After the Blight, he hated mages with every fibre of his being - hated them so much that even Knight Commander Greigor feared what Cullen might do. Then came the madness at Kirkwall...” Branson smiled at her. “You don’t know how much you’ve redeemed him, Evelyn.”

 

Evelyn chuckled embarrassedly. She had never thought of it that way. “He saved me too. There were times when I was nearly broken - by demons, Corpyheus, even myself. He held me together.” She blushed and winced. “I sound like a smitten village girl.”

 

“Is that so bad?” Branson asked.

 

“I guess not.”

 

“I’m not going to give you marriage advice, Eve, that’s Mia’s job,” said Branson as he took the rolled bandage from her. “But you do have more important things to do than roll bandages. Stop avoiding it, go and take your medicine.”

 

“Yes, ser,” she sighed, understanding his meaning. For now, she had to deal with Cullen. She headed out of the house. Cullen was inspecting the gate, Dog standing guard with him. Evelyn steeled herself. This was going to be uncomfortable, but they had to learn to make decisions together. Truth be told, she had to learn not to be the Inquisitor here, not to run roughshod over him.

 

“Hello, Cul,” she said in a small voice, coming up behind him. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

 

“Slept well?” he asked.

 

“No,” she sighed. “Did you?”

 

“I dozed.”

 

“I thought so,” she murmured. Cullen ran his hand over the back of his neck as Evelyn bit her thumbnail, awkwardness blooming between them.

 

“Cullen I-”

 

“Evelyn-”

 

They both stopped. Evelyn chuckled despite herself. “You first,” she said.

 

“No, please, go ahead,” Cullen replied.

 

Evelyn took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said then. “For shouting at you last night. I should have thought about why you were asking me to stay behind. You don’t have to, though. I can still fight.”

 

“I know,” he said, bolting the gates shut with a crossbar. “I should have known that too. I guess I’m just… hoping that you could put down that part of being Inquisitor. That you wouldn’t need to face danger again, not with your arm... I guess I gave you too little credit.”

 

She hugged him from behind, his hands still on the crossbar. “You know I’m not going to let you fight alone, don’t you?” she murmured. “I invested too much in you, Cullen Rutherford. I’m not going to have you taken away from me. I would follow you to the Black City itself, and I know you’d do the same for me.”

 

“I would,” he whispered, his eyes lowered. He turned around and hugged her. Evelyn winced as the armour pressed into her ribs but she said nothing and bore it. “Let’s not fight again.”

 

“Mia says that impossible,” she chuckled.

 

“Yes, that’s probably true. We’ll at least try not to be so loud.”

 

Evelyn squealed in surprise then as Dog licked her behind the knees. “Maker’s breath!” she snapped at Dog, who bounded away playfully, wagging its hind quarters. “He does it on purpose!”

 

“He’s a dog!”

 

“He’s a mabari!” Evelyn squinted suspiciously at Dog. “They’re shifty.”

 

Dog barked quizzically and licked her across the face. Evelyn growled in annoyance. "Where did those dead things go?" she asked Cullen.

 

"I dragged them into the barn. You should come see them." The carcasses were piled away from the horses in the cool barn basement. The creatures were as tall as a man, yet their backs hunched, allowing them to walk on all fours. Their fingers were long and muscled, topped with claws that reached up to half a foot in length and razor sharp. Their skin was covered in gray fur, tangled and messy. Their faces sent chills down Evelyn’s spine.

 

"That's not possible!" Evelyn stared at the beast's dog like muzzles. "Werewolves?"

 

"Or something like that," Cullen nodded.

 

She looked at Cullen's injured side. "I was slashed, not bitten," he reassured her.

 

“They’re corrupted, that’s for sure,” Evelyn squatted down to examine the beast closer. She could see where her spectral blade cut into it. “We worried wondering if we needed Inquisition soldiers, the crown or our own involvement in this. Now it looks like we’ll require all three, if they are indeed werewolves.”

 

Cullen nodded. “Cullen!” they heard Mia calling from the house. “Evelyn! The girl is awake!”

 

+++

 

The Dalish elf was seated propped up against a wall as Branson hovered nearby. She had hair that reached her shoulders of the palest blonde. Her eyes were dark green, her skin darkened by life in the forest. Her garb was Dalish as well, but sheared and scarred from the attack that left her unconcious in the barn. Evelyn sat down beside her

 

“Inquisitor,” the elf greeted.

 

Evelyn glanced at Branson quizzically.

 

“She thought I was going to kill her until I told her you were here,” Branson said apologetically.

 

“We know of you, Inquisitor,” the elf said. She looked up at Cullen. “And the Commander. The Gods must have smiled upon us to send you to us.”

 

“I am Inquisitor Trevelyan, yes,” she said. “What is your name?”

 

“I am Mahari, Inquisitor.”

 

“What’s going on, Mahari?” Evelyn asked. “Five creatures come chasing after you. I hear news of killings as well.”

 

“Those creatures are… were… my clan,” Mahari replied weakly. “They’re all gone. Vanished into the forest. It started with the hunter Harralan. He was enraged with the way the blacksmith spoke to him here. Our elders assigned him scouting, hoping that the forest would clear his mind. But after that, he vanished. We sent people out to search for him, but they too disappeared.

 

“We decided it would be best to turn around and leave the forest. But a week ago, our clan was attacked.” Eshara winced in pain as she continued to speak. “It was darkspawn, Inquisitor. They came out of the trees and took us all. They’re led by an abomination who calls itself Mythallen.”

 

“The child of vengence?” Evelyn asked.

 

Mahari seemed surprised. “Yes,” she said weakly. “I was captured with the rest of the clan. We were taken to a keep in the forest,” Mahari lowered her eyes. “I was-” Mahari bit her lip and drew a deep breath. “I managed to steal this from Mythallen’s chambers, then I escaped.” Mahari held out a silver chain link, broken and twisted.

 

Evelyn took it, her eyes narrowing as she felt the power from the link. She looked down at the silver, engraved with elven runes. “This was in Mythallen’s chambers?” asked Evelyn.

 

Mahari nodded.

 

“This is a ward of some sort,” she said. “Judging from the power emanating from it, it must have bound something big.” She closed her hand over it. “Is Mythallen turning your people into these creatures?”

 

“Please save them,” Mahari begged. “Not all of them have turned, it can’t be. They must still be alive!”

 

“We’ll do all we can, Mahari,” Evelyn assured her, patting the girl’s hand. “I’m going to bring you a map. I need you to mark the location of the keep. In the meantime, Branson will look after you. He’s our healer.”

 

“Andruil go with you, Inquisitor,” Mahari breathed in gratitude.

 

+++

 

Rickard, Mia and Branson sat at the dining table. Rickard was up and about, though his chest and arm were heavily bandaged. He refused to be the only man laying down, however. Mia was watching him with concern. Culled and Evelyn were poring over the map that Mahari had marked. “I never knew there were elven keeps here,” Mia said seriously.

 

“There was news of the Hero of Ferelden stopping a clan of werewolves in the Brescilian Forest during the Fifth Blight,” Cullen said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Apparently, werewolves were formed because of a Dalish curse upon humans. It involved a spirit as I recall.”

 

“But there have been no more news of cursed werewolves until now,” Evelyn said, leaning over the map. “From what I see, the Dalish camp is about a half-day’s travel away. The Keep itself is another day’s travel from the camp. We’ll probably have to go on foot.”

 

Cullen glanced at her. “We don’t have to go to the keep,” he pointed out. “A fast horse can get news to the Inquisition outpost in South Reach.”

 

“The nearest garrison is at Caer Bronarch,” Evelyn pointed out. “It will take the troops three days or more to get here, weather permitting.”

 

“Two, on a forced march,” Cullen assured her.

 

“We have to bring them in,” Evelyn said, “They will be required to sweep the forest for any Dalish who have been turned. And we will also need to take that keep.”

 

“The soldiers should-”

 

“We, Cullen. As in you and I.”

 

“We. You want to assault an ancient elven keep with an abomination inside, with me?”

 

“We haven’t been on a date in a while,” Evelyn grinned.

 

“I’m serious, Inq- Evelyn,” Cullen said sternly.

 

“Cullen, I’ve stormed a dozen keeps in the past. I can do so now.” She straightened up and looked at Rickard. “The Warden is coming?” asked Evelyn.

 

“He’d better be,” said Rickard. “I send Corbin to call him over an hour ago.”

 

“He should be able to provide some reinforcement here and to the town until the soldiers get here,” Evelyn said.

 

“The question is how we’re going to get through the Forest,” Cullen added.

 

“Dog,” Evelyn said calmly. “He’s able to track. He’s proven himself helpful. You were training him at Skyhold, were you not?”

 

Cullen sighed inwardly. She knew he had no more means to object rationally. She moved on quickly. “We should also send word to Cassandra and Alistair,” she said.

 

“I don’t foresee that either of them would object if we cleared out some ancient elven keep, but Alistair would need to send some of the Crown’s soldiers in to assist in the sweep and town’s defence as well.”

 

Mia, Rickard and Branson exchanged glances. “You’re talking about Divine Victoria and King Alistair?” Mia asked, sounding slightly awed.

 

Cullen looked a little embarrassed. “Yes. Slip of the tongue. We’ll leave when there are some guards posted here,” he said in a businesslike manner. “We’ll also need to write some letters, Evelyn. In the meantime, I suggest you begin boarding the windows, Mia.”

 

“I should return to town,” Branson said. “I can’t hole myself up here. I have a feeling I’ll be needed in town before long and the injured would be better cared for at my clinic than on the floor.”

 

Mia nodded. “Tell Treston that Rosalie is here too,” she said. “Rickard and I will be able to watch over her and Aidan.” Rosalie was still in her room, unwilling to leave.

 

“So we have our plan of action,” Evelyn said, straightening up. “Let’s do this.”

 

 


End file.
